


image of winter

by aquariuslester (geminidaniel)



Series: dsmp headcanons [6]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Video Game World, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Canon - Video Game, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Child Murder, Dnf if you squint, Gen, Head Injury, Implied Relationships, Kinda, Major Character Injury, Mentioned GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Other, Roleplay, Slow Death, Songfic, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Video Game Mechanics, guys please, just dnf, mans beat a child to death how to i tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geminidaniel/pseuds/aquariuslester
Summary: pondering humanity with a murderer.image of winter by the internet
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: dsmp headcanons [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119860
Kudos: 22





	image of winter

**Author's Note:**

> TW FOR BLOOD AND BROKEN BONES SHIT GETS INTENSE
> 
> also i recommend listening to image of winter its a super chill song and i've been obsessed w it lately

it wasn't unusual for tommy and dream to fight.

over the past few days, since tommy had been stuck in dream's cell, they had fought almost every hour. tommy would make noises or pace, pushing his anxiety into something physical or auditory. dream would put down his book, asking tommy to stop.

"tommy, please, i'm trying to write."

"fuck you." he would continue.

dream almost liked it better when he was stuck by himself. the only noises in his ears were the oozing from the lava and the steady dripping of the cracked obsidian around him. he would comfort himself with the scribbling of his quill in his book as he wrote anything that came to mind. there was poetry next to unintelligible ramblings. he drew small pictures of cats and the lectern next to him, drawing the same thing for hours on end to make the time pass faster.

he realized how nice it had been to be alone before tommy was trapped with him.

"tommy, stop pacing. it's irritating."

"oh, i'm irritating you, am i? you know, dream, i've been thinking." he stopped walking to stare at the man sitting on the ground. "that revival book you told me about isn't real, is it? you were just trying to save your own ass. you're a pussy."

dream stood up and put his book away, facing tommy.

"you were just scared because everyone was cornering you. if i could, i would kill you right now, dream. you make me sick."

"tommy, shut up."

"or what? what are you going to do, write about me in your book?"

dream shoved tommy backwards, his head hitting the rigid obsidian. his vision blurred for a moment and he was on the floor. his vision was almost back to normal, but something small and indescribable was off about it, like the two inputs being received by his eyes weren't lined up properly.

"you know, tommy, you've been so fucking annoying ever since you got here. i liked it better without you here. the revival book is real, but you know what? i'll never use it on you, or tubbo, or any of your friends. i'm going to get out of here and get my revenge. and when tubbo dies, i'll be the only one with the revival book."

"when what?"

dream paused. "listen, it doesn't matter. all that matters is that i'm going to escape from here. i'm going to get out of this fucking place and i'm gonna get my revenge on everyone."

tommy began moving against the wall behind him to stand, but dream kicked his legs out from under him, sending him falling back down, his head again colliding with the immovable rock.

"y-you can't kill tubbo. you can't escape." his words were starting to slur together, and he couldn't focus his line of vision enough to stare at dream's towering figure above him.

tommy's mind was jumbled and scattered. he found it hard to pinpoint the exact emotion he was feeling, and his brain couldn't focus on a single thought at once. he felt like he was angry, but scared, but frustrated, but confident, but nothing at all. he was in the cell, on the cold floor, but he was in l'manberg at the festival, watching tubbo's death happening in front of him, but he was in logstedshire, watching with a ring in his ears as dream destroyed his personal items.

he was having a panic attack, but he was also at peace. something was keeping him awake in the present moment, but he wanted to fall asleep. he wanted to close his eyes and wake up in a warm bed, in a quiet house, in a world not torn by war and strife.

dream kicked his ribs in the silence and only then did tommy notice the lack of oxygen in his lungs. he heard something crack in his side, but he couldn't feel it.

he couldn't feel much of anything.

"oh, i can escape, tommy. i'm going to get out of here, and you're gonna be so fucking dead when i do. what will everyone try to do, kill me? i'm like a god, tommy, you can't kill me!" his voice reached staccatos in his hysteria as he kept kicking tommy's chest, relishing in the cracking sounds from his bones and the pained gasps that came from his lips, pathetic attempts to speak, to cry, to beg.

tommy wanted to cry. he tried pulling himself away, inching himself towards the lava to get away from dream. his arm weakly reached out, pulling him for a moment before dream's foot came down hard on tommy's knuckles, smashing them against the thin netherite line on the ground.

tommy opened his mouth to say something, but only blood came from his throat, spilling miserably onto the floor beneath him and pooling under his cheek. his body was twitching subconsciously, sending another gush of blood from his lips when it did.

he was hardly breathing at that point; any oxygen was being replaced with the warm, thick liquid pushing its way out of his body through his mouth. his eyes were dull, his eyelids pulling down over the pupils that once held such vibrant life.

"d-dream, please," tommy gargled, his voice almost nonexistent, "i'm going to die."

dream stepped back for a moment, running his hand through his hair and watching tommy's humanity be stripped from him.

when was a person a person, and when was a person merely an object? was it when they were clinically dead? was it when they had given up trying to survive? was it when they resigned their personality to the pain?

dream couldn't tell when people were people anymore. he remembered once when he had woken up to george laying next to him on a cold night, his body warmth pressed against him in the small bed.

was that humanity? was it that warmth? was it the way george pulled himself impossibly closer, his breath hot against dream's neck?

was george human? was he still a human? was he a person? had he ever been a person?

was tommy a person right now? what about him was a person? was it the physical form he saw growing paler under the dim light of glowstone? was it the red that couldn't stop flowing from tommy's mouth, the one that never stopped making noise? was it the personality that was always so fiery, that now felt extinguished and smoldering in his cold skin?

tommy had grown quiet. his body had stopped twitching. the blood was no longer moving freely, static and dark against the black confinements of the cell.

dream grabbed his book from the lectern and sat next to tommy's body. he opened to a fresh page, the paper white and clean. he grabbed the feather, playing briefly with the plumage before he brought the tip to the ground, the feather point taking in its new ink.

_diary,_

_it's much quieter in here now. i liked it when it was quiet._

_i can think when it's quiet._


End file.
